Welcome To My Truth
by Ryla Dante
Summary: Part three in my series...the conclusion! After Sammy has a terrifying vision, things begin to fall apart. Dean then finds out something that turns his whole world upside down...Now Sammy has crossed over and only one thing can bring him back.
1. The Beginning of the End

A/N: Finally part three of my Fate series. I just hope that it is everything you all have been waiting for. I tied up a few lose ends (even one I had completely forgotten about, hehe) This story is full of Drama, Angst and mayhem. I hope the readers do not have pacemakers or weak hearts...for I can not be held responsible for any deaths after reading this.

In this conclusion...Sam has crossed over and it will take something even Dean can not imagine to bring him back. He will find out a secret about someone near to him that can save Sam and possibly end the hell that has been chasing him since birth. More secrets will be exposed and more people will die.

EDIT: Something just occurred to me...I just had an amazing idea, and had to change a little thing here...it adds a little mystery to the story, and helps with a prequel I am planning in the future, hehe...The line I am changing read: "As this man dropped his hood Sam's eyes widened as he saw Jacob Kline, Mary's biological brother." It will explain something in a later chapter, plus as I say add mystery and an eeriness to it...I hope you see that as well!

Disclaimer: Much thanx to Eric Kripke for his amazing series that gives us these wonderful plot bunnies to work with. We bow to you. And also thanx to the wonderful creators of SPN: Origins for the characters they added to the Winchester family. It helped tremendously in my connections.

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"Let the devil grab but by a single hair, and you are his forever." - Gotthold Ephraim Lessing  
"In at Genesis Semen Mortis Est." - Latin Phrase  
"Sometimes we must feel pain in order to make room for salvation..." 

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"I need you to watch out for me." Sam heard the words resounding through his mind louder than ever before. The whole scene played back as it always did. He stared into the bathroom mirror, staring at his marred reflection, the marks of the previous fight fresh on his skin.

"I always do." Dean had lifted him off the chair, trying to convince his drunk ass that things were fine, that he was just overreacting. Sam knew then that things were going to hell in a handcart, but Dean just could not see it. Sam shook his head as the last eighteen months just proved his brother wrong.

" No, no, no, you have to watch...out...for me. Alright? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not, you have to kill me."

"Sam..."

"Dean, dad told you do it, you have to."

"Yeah well dad's an ass. He never should have said anything, I mean you don't, you don't lay that kinda crap on your kids.

"No, he was right to say it." That was what got Sam the most. His own father wanted his brother to kill him. Sam knew that it hurt Dean to do it, but his brother had no idea how much it killed him inside whenever he heard those words. Whenever he knew that he was closer to becoming a monster. And in the last month, he had stepped over that line, and was terrified he may never come back.

"Who knows what I might become? Even now everyone around me dies.

"Yeah well, I'm not dying, okay? And neither are you, come on sit down." Sam leaned on the bathroom sink. That was where Dean had been wrong, oh so wrong. Sam _had_ died, and now that he had come back, he had brought hell back with him. Dean never should have done that, he should have left well enough alone. Sam loved his brother, would do anything for him, and knew that Dean would do the same for him, but he had gone too far this time.

"No please. Dean you're the only one that can do it. Promise!"

"Don't ask that of me..."

"Dean please you have to promise me!"

"I promise."

"Thanks. Thank you..."

As the vision blurred, slowly faded, another began. One Sam had never seen before. It was of his mother. She was much younger than himself, and was surrounded by men in black robes. As the vision became clearer, one of the men came into view. It was the original yellow eye. He lowered the hood on his robe, and stroked Mary's face, she smiled sweetly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Mary Kline, do you promise to give yourself to the council, forsaking all others?" His hand was now holding hers tightly. Mary stared deeply into his eyes, and she nodded. Sam felt sick to his stomach. Creigh had been telling the truth. As Mary stared at the daemon, he took a knife from inside his robes, and Sam almost convulsed. It was the same knife Layla had given him. Sam felt dizzy, not sure what the hell was going on.

The daemon cut into Mary's hand after his own, then placed their hands together, their blood mixing. Mary jerked a moment, then kissed him with a passion Sam had never seen. The other members began to chant loudly, moving about the room in a wild dance. In the corner of the room was a man drenched in shadows. He was dressed almost like a Tibetan Monk. The hood of the cloak was partially covering his face. He was dark and somehow sinister. The figure scared Sam. He seemed familiar yet at the same time a stranger. As this man dropped his hood Sam's eyes widened as he saw his very own father John Winchester!

The vision dissipated, and Sam fell to his knees, pain shooting throughout his body. Heat coursed from his head to his toes, making his stomach lurch. He slammed a hand against the sink cabinet, cracking it. A low growl emanated from his throat, and he doubled over.

Dean heard all the commotion and rushed in to find Sammy splayed out on the floor, unconscious. He scooped his brother up and carried him into the bedroom, laying him out on a too-small bed. Staring at his brother this way, drudged up too recent memories. Dean turned from him and ran smack into Bobby. The man who had arose from the grave like Christ himself, now stood in front of him like nothing had ever happened.

"Jesus Bobby," Dean gripped his chest, his heart beating faster than normal. Bobby stared at Sam, merely shaking his head. Something about the man was beginning to freak Dean out. It had been two weeks since Sam had fought Creigh, and in those fourteen days Bobby had been acting so different. Normally he would yell at the boys or want to bash their skulls together for being jackasses, but now he was so calm and serene, so much so it was making Dean sick. Now he was leaning against the door jamb looking at the sleeping boy not saying a word, just smiling. Dean was creeped out.

"Bobby, I wish you would stop that. People may begin to think your milk has expired." Dean half smiled. Bobby chuckled, then moved into the room. He sat next to Sam and looked down at him. Sam was motionless, save for his eyes. They jerked wildly, rapidly dancing under their closed lids. Bobby touched the boy lightly on the forehead and the movement ceased. Dean cocked an eyebrow, beginning to wonder what the hell had happened to Bobby in the time Sam had tossed him like a rag doll to when he came back like Sam had done. Yet this time there had been no deal with the devil, or had there?

"We have to let him rest." Bobby sighed, still touching Sam. His voice was softer, gentler. Dean did not know what to think anymore. Bobby stood then almost floated past the other man. There was a strange feeling as he did. A warmth that enveloped Dean, almost comforted him. The last time he had felt anything remotely like that was when his mother had been alive. Dean swallowed hard, gripping his face tightly. Something was extremely off kilter here.


	2. The Eyes Are the Window to the Soul

A/N: Okay...Chapter Two...and here is where my most convoluted twist ever comes into play. It is silly, but it works with the rest of the plot and brings Dean into the story more (I have been severely lacking on Dean in this series...) So you can laugh at it, groan, or even want to throw a shoe at me, I understand. Please enjoy just the same.

Disclaimer: Eric Kripke owns all of Supernatural whilst Peter Johnson, Matthew Dow Smith, JD Mettler and others own SPN: Origins. I thank all of these wonderful people yet again for their hard work. Now everything else you see that is non-recognizable belongs to me...

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Bobby stood in the small living room, his back to Dean. He stared out the front window. In the two weeks that Sammy had come back he never spoke, not to Bobby, not even to Dean. He sat in his room looking out the window staring off at nothing. No matter how much Dean tried to coax him out of there and amongst the living he would never budge. If it was not for the fact that he had his own bathroom he never would have moved at all.

The entire time Sam never looked Bobby in the eye. He felt so guilty about everything, so terrible. Bobby of course had forgiven him, and that was when Dean knew things had gone afoul. Bobby never would have done that. Sure he was a decent guy under that country boy exterior, but the fact that something evil in Sam, something real this time had actually hurt Bobby meant that the man would have been pissed from here to doomsday. Singer was just not himself anymore.

"Dean," Bobby did not turn from the window. His arms were crossed in front of him. His head was lowered and his eyes were closed. Dean sat on the arm of the couch and merely stared at the man before him.

"Things are different now. I know you know that, you are just as intelligent as your brother in there, if not more so. The last few years have been a blur, so many things happening at once. I was thrust into a world I was not sure I could comprehend."

Dean squinted. He was confused at this man's words, not sure what he was saying to him. He was about to say something, when Bobby turned around, his eyes open. He looked at the younger man, his hands on the opposite arm of the couch.

"You see Dean, when they took Ava, things were pure hell. I lost my mind, did not know which way was up. I told you and Sam the story about my wife dying and Ava being stolen from me, but there is one detail I failed to mention."

Bobby sat on the couch and bit his upper lip. Now Dean saw the man he always knew. A worrier, and a torn figure. Dean hated to see that sitting in front of him, but it was a hell of a lot better than the sickly sweet candyman he was getting over the last fortnight.

"You see Dean. For a month after I prayed, and damn it if I did not pray hard. Every minute I prayed for Ava to return, for Layla to be avenged, to be whole again. I wanted something real back in my life, and little did I realize that I was about to get my prayers answered."

Dean watched a slow tear make its way down the older man's face. Bobby let it fall, breathing deeply. He slipped his hat off his head and set it in his lap. His hair was wet from sweat. Bobby ran a hand through it, stopping midway. He stared off a moment, thinking about something, then removed his hand from his head.

"Dean," He continued. "One night, a night I will never forget, I was in bed. I had just drank nearly half a bottle of Jack and was feeling pretty sorry for myself, when at the foot of my bed I saw this beautiful blue light. Of course I thought that Mr. Jack Daniels was kicking my tail, so I ignored it by shoving my face into my pillow. Yet when the light got brighter, I knew the alcohol was not playing a factor there.

As I watched the light, a stunning figure emerged from it. She was dressed in white with long blonde hair. I could not see her face, but her voice was like velvet. She stood right next to me, so close I could feel her warmth. It was soothing, something I had not ever felt before. This angel, I know that is what she was, began to speak.

"She told me that my prayers had been heard, and she was sent to answer them. I merely shook my head, thinking again that the whisky had gone to my head. But when she kissed my forehead, I knew she was real. My body was engulfed in a sudden heat, yet it was not burning, but more of a soothing. Before she left me, she had whispered something in my ear. And from that day on I was different, felt different."

Dean watched Bobby, even more confused than he was before. Sam and Dean had seen some really extravagant things in their lives, but Bobby was talking crazy. Dean never did believe in Angels. Just the mere mention of them made him tune out. When his mother used to tell him that there were angels out there to protect them, he used to believe her. Of course why wouldn't he? She was his mother, she was omnipotent. But ever since she had been taken from him and his family, he began to lose a lot of faith in that.

"Bobby what are you trying to tell me here?" Dean stood his hands out in front of him. Bobby shook his head gently. As he lifted his head to look into Dean's eyes, his own had a strange light to them. There was something to them Dean thought odd, but he said nothing.

"You see Dean. That night my whole world changed. I was given a gift that can change the very course of both of your lives." Bobby stood and grabbed Dean's shoulders. Dean looked deep into Bobby's eyes. The light was brighter.

"That angel, and at the time I did not know her, she told me something that I will never forget. She told me that she wanted her sons to know that angels really were looking out for them. She told me that when the time was right, I would know when to disclose that."

Dean went limp in Bobby's grasp. For him to not believe in angels to find out his mother had become one? That explained why she had saved them that night at their old house. Perhaps it wasn't just a ghost doing unfinished business after all. Dean could just not get his head around all of this. As he was about to speak, Bobby dropped another bombshell on his doorstep.

"Dean." He dropped his hands from Dean's shoulders. "I need to tell you one last thing, something that will probably make your head spin, but please try to keep an open mind." Bobby took a breath, holding it a moment, then let it out slowly. He closed his eyes, and a second later a bright blue light surrounded his tall frame. Dean stepped back his hand to his mouth. He was horrified yet at the same time mystified. Bobby opened his eyes and they were almost white.


	3. Flashbacks to Hell

A/N: Chapter Three...Yet another twist...that's just how I roll, hehe. Hope you enjoy what I have done thus far and that I have not gone too far overboard...Sorry these chapters are so short...I never know how short they will be until after they are loaded in WordPerfect...

Disclaimer: Yep, I assume much and know little.

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Sam twitched wildly on the mattress, his mind under attack. His eyes fluttered as a vision played out under the pale lids. Sam was back in the nursery, yet this time he was all alone. Lights were up and he saw everything. The vision was strikingly similar to the one Creigh had shown him, yet much darker. He heard a yip from his right and saw himself as a baby. He leaned over the crib and almost fell through. His dream self was unable to touch anything. Sam swiped at the mobile over his younger self, yet got the same result. This scared Sam. The next thing that scared Sam was the blood that was leaking from the baby's mouth. It was fresh and there was a lot of it. Sam stepped back and bumped into something. Knowing from the last two tries he could not do that, he swung around. There stood Creigh, alive and well. His eyes were no longer yellow, but blacker than an eclipse. He smiled at Sammy and grabbed his arm. A pain shot through him like he had never felt.

"My Sammy." His voice was low and deliberate. He smiled and sharp teeth shown past his slim lips. Sam's knees buckled and it took all the strength he had not to drop to the floor. Creigh relished this.

"You seem to have forgotten so much in your short life." The grip tightened, and Sam groaned. Creigh pointed with his other hand toward the open door as Mary rushed through. This was the moment Sam had dreaded seeing, but he knew it would someday happen. She spotted something to the left of Sam, a dark figure with his back to her. He swung around, and Creigh was now standing inches from her face. He placed a hand on her waist, the other fanned over her face with an almost tender motion. Creigh shuddered, his eyes fluttering. He breathed in deep then cocked his head to one side.

"Mary, my sweet Mary. My brother failed me, letting you go...but our son will not!" Then he pulled back and without touching Sam's mother sent her across the room and up the wall. She slid slowly until her head touched the ceiling. Mary caught sight of her baby who was now crying below. His small hand reached for her. She whispered his name, then felt herself being yanked hard across the ceiling. She stopped in the middle just above Sam's crib. This time she screamed for John who was asleep downstairs. Creigh looked at Mary one last time then with a flash of his hand broke her neck.

Sam gagged. He knew of the fire, but everything that led up to her death was just so...He wished he was awake and not seeing this. It was more than he could take. A moment later John dashed in, but not before Creigh disappeared. Sam was left to watch everything there was left to watch. He held back tears as he saw his father lean into the crib to comfort young Sam as blood dripped onto his hand. John looked up to the ceiling in horror as his lovely wife was locked there. Within seconds she was on fire and John was screaming her name, as was Sam. John grabbed young Sam and raced from the room and Sam could do nothing but stare up at his mother. As his father, Dean and his younger self escaped from the house, Sam was surrounded by a hellfire that was hotter than the devil's domain itself. Sam screamed as he fell to his knees. The pain was excruciating. Then the fire parted as Creigh stepped up to Sam and lifted him from the floor. There faces touched and he spoke softly.

"You are MY son. John was simply a mere vessel for which I used to bring the one into the world. You mother was special, never knew her potential in the council. Your uncle Jacob was the first of her family, and if John had not gotten him killed things would have been so different." He chuckled, and Sam grunted as the flames licked at his exposed skin. This vision was so much more real than he thought.

"You would be the leader of our council, and your mother would be my wife. But we got old John in the end. Cleaned up that mess. Now, just too bad we could not get Dean when we were supposed to. You did foul that one a bit, but it is understandable. He is your brother." Creigh breathed deeply then closed his eyes. Sam watched as the man in front of him tilted his head back. A second later he dropped his head, a low growl escaping his throat. He opened his eyes and they were bright red. Sam wanted to scream.

"Now it's time for my namesake to do daddy proud." Creigh thrust his hands at Sam, palms out, and Sam's chest almost caved in. He took a sharp intake of breath and his eyes burned. Moments later Sam awoke. He was no longer twitching and the vision was gone. His eyes opened and they were completely black.


	4. Tying Up Lose Ends

A/N: Okay, in this chapter I had to close up a very lose end from part two...It may seem rushed or even out of place, but I had to put it to rest...So sorry for that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but what you do not totally recognize. :)

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Denny sat at his desk, papers strewn all about. The Winchester case file had grown over the last three and a half months, but thankfully was closed. He leaned back in his chair and breathed out a long awaited sigh of relief. It was all over, Sam was back to his normal self, Dean was once again on planet earth, and Bobby was alive. The only problem Denny had was with Bobby coming back like he did. That night had been a strange one, but that still unsettled him more than anything. He had barely known the man, but it was the fact that he was so close to Sam and Dean that sent his brain for a spin. 

As he moved to grab for his jacket, he heard a faint swishing sound down the empty hall. He was all alone in the precinct, and now wished he had gone home when his Lieutenant had told him to. Slowly slipping his gun from his side desk drawer, he edged his way to the locked door. Denny leaned against the door frame and waited. The sound stopped momentarily, then picked up again. Denny pressed his back against the wall, breathing hard. After the last three months, he took nothing for granted anymore.

The sound gradually closed in on him, and as it did he realized it was human. It was the sound of someone walking. Denny prayed it was just George the night janitor. As the steps came closer they ended right at his door. The person, whoever it was, seemed to be listening just as he was. Denny waited, his breath deep in his lungs almost burning a hole in his chest. He slipped his free hand to the door, unlocking it. In one swift motion he thrust the door open and shoved his gun into whoever's face happened to be in the hallway.

"Is that any way to greet your father after all these years?" A gruff voice enveloped Denny with a sense of dread and he almost dropped the gun. The breath he had been holding escaped jaggedly and he barely saw Hector Morales in front of him, a man whom he had not seen in 39 years.

"Oh my dear _hijo_, you look as if you have seen a ghost." Hector chuckled, but it was filled with something deeper than happiness, almost an animosity. Denny knew that Hector loathed the man standing in front of him, harboured a grudge that no man could match. Hector reached for the gun and to his surprise was able to slip it easily from his son's hand. Denny was too terrified to think about much else but the shit that man had put him and Mary through.

"What, how..." Denny stuttered not being able to get a decent phrase out. Den had thought of being able to confront this man millions of times in his dreams, praying that he could just blow him away and end the nightmares. Yet here he stood shaking and muttering like a stroke victim. _Yeah Denver, you can defend your sister from him at 9 years old, but at 48 you're a freaking bowl of Jello. Way to go!_

"So you gonna invite your _papi_ in, or am I gonna have to push my way in?" Hector crossed his arms in front of him, one eye brow raised. At that moment Denny got his courage back. He eyed his gun that was presently taking up residence in the older mans hand. Denny cleared his throat then spoke.

"Well damn, if I invite in a blood sucker, you are impervious to anything I do to you. So why should I?" Denny leaned against the door jamb, defying Hector to cross him. His father stared at him a moment, then pushed his son out of the way with the strength of a man half his age. Denny banged against the open door, glaring at the old man. The man may have been 73, but that gave Denny no qualms about putting lead between his eyes.

"So my son is _la policia_ eh?" Hector scanned the small office picking up random papers until he came upon the picture of Mary. A large smile crossed his aged face. He chuckled loudly, purposefully. Turning wide, he grinned at Denver.

"I see you still have the _puta's_ picture on your desk here." Hector quipped. Denny grit his teeth, yet said nothing. It may have been 39 years, but he felt as if he were back in that living room watching his father tease Mary all over again. It hurt, but he wanted to keep a level head for the moment.

"You know, she was not the innocent little _chica_ we all thought she was. You see," Hector set the photo down, staring at it a bit too long. That turned Denny's stomach.

"Little sweet Mary, she was _un martillo embroma_. Loved to mess with _mi__ cerbeza_. If you get my drift." Hector began to laugh heartily, when Denny could not hold his composure any longer. 39 years had been long enough. He leapt forward, slamming his father into his desk. Mary's picture fell to the floor, the glass smashing. Denny barely noticed this. His hands were wrapped in the older man's shirt grabbing for his throat. Hector continued to laugh as if what he was experiencing was nothing more than a playwright performing a simple scene from his newest script.

"You bastard," Denny dug his nails into Hector's skin, the flesh weathered and flimsy. His hands slipped a moment, but finally his grasp sunk in and he held on for dear life.

"That girl was my life, the only person who kept me sane, and you took her from me. You ruined my life _**papi**_, and now I want to thank you for that." Denny suddenly let go when his father said something that shocked him to his very core.

"That look in your eyes _hijo_, Mary's parents had that look. The very night I killed them!" Hector laughed again and turned from his son. Denny struggled for air. All these years he had tried to find the man responsible for the death of his sister's parents, and here he was, his own father. As Denny clenched his own throat his eyes caught sight of the gun that had fallen to the desk in the scuffle. He reached for it and slowly pointed it at his father's back. He cocked it and watched Hector's head turn. He was smiling.

"You couldn't kill me when you were little _jefe_, so what makes you think you can do it now?" Hector spun all the way around daring his son to pull the trigger. Denny struggled within himself to waste this man before but a flash of his sister being molested by this man gave him every ounce of strength he needed.

"Because Mary's boys don't need an _abuelo_ like you." Then before Hector could speak, Denny's finger yanked the trigger back. The bullet slipped from the gun at a rapid pace slamming into the man's face. His head shot backwards and his body soon followed. Denny watched his father slip to the floor in a dead heap. He tossed the gun to the floor and walked out of the office.


	5. The Past Can Haunt and Kill

A/N: Now comes the connection that ties all three parts together. At first I thought I only tied part two in, then after rereading part one a couple times, I realized something I left open that was perfect...I love twists, secrets and what if's.

The flashback Bobby speaks of was an awesome plot bunny provided to me by samsara42 from spnfanily. (I praise the FaNily, hehe)...If it were not for that plot bunny, I would have been hopelessly stuck...thanx a bunch Sara...Also, a bit of the history Bobby talks about comes from Catbiest's story: It's About Sam...with her permission of course!! Our stories were connected even before either one was written as freaky as that sounds...and the time lines of both are perfectly in tune. I also used a little from her new story in progress: Where I Belong...Once again with permission.

EDIT: Once I made an edit in Chapter One...eliminating a line here makes more sense...Also the edit from chapter on helps us to know how John gets the item that Bobby talks about in this chapter, or at least hints at it. Once I begin a prequel based on this story, I will delve more into that.

Disclaimer: Kripke owns SPN, Peter Johnson, Matthew Dow Smith, and JD Mettler own SPN: Origins, and Catbiest owns It's About Sam and Where I Belong...anything else that might be left, I own...

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Bobby closed his eyes again, the blue glow dimming considerably. He stepped back breathing deeply. Dean did not know what to think. The man he and Sam had known for most of their young lives had just told them he was a what, an angel? That was crazy, yet there he stood brighter than a glow stick at a midnight rave. As Bobby opened his eyes again the light that had previously surrounded him went out completely. Dean flopped onto the couch shaking his head. 

"Dean I am sorry this was how you had to hear all this." Bobby sat next to the younger man a hand on his arm. Dean half expected to get electrocuted then almost laughed when nothing happened not even so much as a static charge.

"Bobby I am more confused than I have ever been at this." Dean placed his head in his hand the other arm still in the grip of Bobby's. Bobby smiled slowly then suddenly placed his other hand to his mouth as if to suppress a scream. Dean stared at him wondering what was wrong this time. Bobby shot up from the couch and rushed out of the room. Dean watched after him even more confused.

Minutes later Bobby returned holding something in his hands. He stared at it in thought then sat once again on the couch. Dean eyed the object then pulled back. It was his own knife yet something about it looked very strange. Its very presence in the room spooked Dean.

"Why do you have my knife?" Dean asked slowly. He looked closely at it, yet that feeling stayed. Bobby turned the object over in his hands a few times then looked Dean dead in the face. His eyes were no longer soft and warm but cool and serious.

"This knife, your knife, was the same knife Sam brought back with him from Hell." Dean began to protest but Bobby shushed him.

"When I saw it on him that day I stole it, and since he had not spoken a word since coming back I knew the secret would be safe, until now." Dean's eyes widened at the mention of the word 'secret'. They had far too many of those in this family, and in only the last three months more than he could handle had been thrust into his lap. Now there was another one? His brain could not take the strain.

"You see, this knife is older than you realize. It was forged by the ancients from a certain man's blood just after he died. Yet it has also mixed with many an evil person's DNA since then." Bobby set the blade between them and watched Dean's expression as he explained the origin of the knife.

"Dean, this knife is the only thing standing between Sammy and salvation. Your father knew that, made sure you had it with you at all times. In fact the last time he and I spoke it was mainly about this very object."

Bobby sat back against the arm of the couch. He swallowed, his brain turning and revolving back to a time that he really would rather forget. There had been many a time where John Winchester had been defiant and just downright a pain in the ass but that night 6 years ago was the turning point in their already strained friendship.

It had been late and Bobby had fallen asleep while watching some random infomercial on the television when Rumsfeld began to bark and growl. It was highly unusual for his Lab to make much noise this time of night since the junkyard was locked up tight, but never the less the 35 pound mutt was fit to be tied.

Bobby had ignored him for a while thinking it was simply a raccoon or a cat, but when Rumsfeld's chain began to bang against Bobby's beat up Ford he knew there was more to it than a four legged creature. Leaping to his feet Bobby grabbed his trusty double barrel and thrust the front door open. It creaked audibly. He scanned the darkness waiting for something to jump from the shadows. He waited for an eternity when something to his left caught his eye. Without flinching Bobby let off a shot, buckshot soaring though the air at an alarming rate.

"Jesus Christ Robert. I knew you were mad at me but... " A low voice erupted from the pitch black of the yard. Bobby closed his eyes tight as he registered the tone of his one time partner John Winchester. Gravel crunched under toe as John stepped into view. Bobby sighed heavily. The unwanted presence made his skin turn cold. It had been a year since the fateful exorcism that had sent John into a downward spiral. John had been consumed with saving his son years before that night, but when he heard that young woman claim something was coming for his Sammy he snapped. He had disappeared leaving Bobby to wonder where the hell he had gone.

Now here was the man looking much older, almost haggard. He seemed beaten from the inside out. John had been a heavy drinker and Bobby knew that one day that the whisky would begin to take its toll on the man, but this seemed so much harder. Bobby knew that an evil had taken residence in his very soul biting into his brain and not letting go. Singer hated to see his best friend this way but it had only been a matter of time.

"You here to rant and rave about more nonsense I don't need in my life Winchester?" Bobby lowered the shotgun. John leaned against the Ford whilst Rumsfeld glared at this new being in his path. John ignored the beast.

"First you shoot at me then you accuse me of ranting like a maniac. A man could mistake that for an insult." John crossed his arms his eye brow raised. Bobby almost laughed as he saw a bit of Dean shine through. That indignant nature the younger man seemed to have. Whenever they were together John always had this attitude about him that the world was out to get him. Sadly Dean had inherited the same.

"Yeah well, you sneak up on someone after being on the lam for a year, you see who insults whom." Bobby tossed his shotgun onto his shoulder like a marine and turned for the house. John huffed and followed. Rumsfeld let out a single snuff and leapt back onto the hood of the truck and promptly fell asleep. Once inside Bobby set the gun beside the door and turned on the ceiling light. The crowded room was illuminated, which to John's eyes was not a very wise thing. The couch was covered in old newspapers some as old as a year. Next to the shabby davenport was a half full bottle of J & B. It seemed to John that he was not the only one on the hair of the dog as of late.

On the semi-clean coffee table rested a large book twice the size of a Webster's dictionary. It was open to about the 50th page. Most of the writing was in Latin which at this point was already a second language, if not a first, for the professional hunter. As he scanned it John saw that it was basically a daemonology encyclopedia. Bobby watched John catching his eyes.

"So you don't want to hear my ranting about this crap, yet here you are reading about it?" John set hard on the sofa the papers crunching under him. Bobby shrugged pulling a chair close to the table. John read a bit more then slammed it shut pushing it away. He sat back staring at the ceiling. He seemed even more distressed than before. Bobby realized there was a reason this man was here and he had to find out now.

"John, something is troubling you I can tell." Bobby watched the other man lean forward and for the first time saw how old he truly looked. One year had done a number on him. Worry lines had formed across his careworn face. His eyes had lost any shine they might have had. Whenever John talked his chocolate eyes lit up like a sunrise yet now they were dull and lifeless. He stared at the man across from him absently a moment and rang his hands. The solitary silver ring that had always been on his left ring finger danced in the light. John thrust his fists to his lips a pained expression exploding all over his face.

"Bobby," John began in a hushed tone. He bit into the knuckle of his thumb hard as if biting back a scream.

"Sammy, he...I fear that something terrible will happen to my boy." John kept his left hand at his chin and slammed the other onto the oversized book causing Bobby to jump. He closed his eyes a moment then slipped his own hands onto the table.

"John, you have to realize that the boy is in college and nothing could possibly hurt him now. He's happy, he's found someone like you did all those years ago and things are going great. Why can't you except the fact that maybe Sam is going to be fine?" Bobby stood turning from John. He could hear the other man huffing and muttering something. A split second later he heard something connect with his wooden table. He spun around and stuck into the top layer was a large knife.

"John!" Bobby rushed to the table not sure what to think. He eyed the object when a sickening feeling came over him. He suddenly knew why John was here, and he did not like it.

"I have seen him, I have seen my Sammy." John fingered the handle of the knife his voice low and deliberate.

"You're right, he _seems_ happy, but I have seen things to the contrary. I know that any day now the beasts will come and take him, make him one of them and I can not allow that." John stopped touching the knife and looked up at Bobby. Bobby had realized that his friend had suddenly lost his mind.

"John please don't even think this. It isn't right."

"Listen to me Bobby." John yanked the knife from the table and held it tightly admiring its shining beauty. The 6 inch blade was amazingly well crafted.

"This knife is the gateway between heaven and hell, damnation and salvation. The colt is only a mere key to this. A vessel as it were. It only takes care of the evil that comes for Sam, but not Sam himself. Once Sam turns this knife is the only thing that can save his very soul." He placed it in Bobby's hands.

"I need you to get this to Dean. He has to, because I won't be around when the time comes to do it." Bobby's eyes widened at the ominous statement John dropped on him. John caught the look and tried to smile but it went over more or less as a half frown.

"Bobby I am sorry but I have been seeing things lately. Terrible things. I try to sleep and all I see is fire and death. I see Sammy in pain and Dean crying and screaming for his brother to stay with him. Things are just so awful right now I can't handle them. Just get that knife to Dean, but please don't tell him why. It would devastate him. I'll tell him when the time is right."

Before Bobby could say a word John left the house slamming the screen door behind him leaving Bobby holding the knife as well as an assignment he knew he would live to regret.

"That is why YOU had to kill Sammy, yet now with Sam being so strong you couldn't possibly do it."

Dean continued to look at the knife, an item he carried at his side like a good luck charm. To find out that this was what he had to kill his baby brother with, that this piece of weaponry was the tool for which to destroy the only person he ever truly loved made his heart sink. Raising his head to look at Bobby he sighed.

"So you are saying my father knew this all along, knew that if I carried this without knowing what I had I would never protest it? That son of a bitch!" Dean jumped off the couch fresh anger gripping his chest. His brother lay just down the hall and here was the weapon to take him out. For a split second Dean's mind slipped and he almost grabbed the knife thinking it would be a better fate than whatever those daemons had in store for Sammy but then he blinked it away.

"No wait," Bobby leapt from the couch and yanked Dean to face him. "Dean, your father was not to blame. He knew that one day they would come for Sammy and that the only thing to do was to not let them take his baby. No, death is not the best way to deal with it, but you can understand his way of thinking."

Dean closed his eyes tightly. It was as if the man before him had read his very thoughts. Even so, he was right. You can only hate someone for so long before you realize what they were trying to do was for the best. John Winchester may have been hard as stone at times, but at least he cared his children. After all they were all he had.

"So, so what happens now? Do we just sit and wait?" Dean tossed his hands in the air not from anger but from mere frustration from the whole situation. He brought Sam back then Sam saved his ass for what? For his brother to become a member of the Boyz Down Unda? It irked him to no end.

"Yes..." Bobby grabbed the knife off the couch. Dean made a move to block him not sure what the hell he was doing. Bobby held the knife at both ends rolling it between his fingers.

"Dean, unfortunately Sam _is_ going to cross over and the only things that can bring him back is this..." Bobby closed his eyes yet again.

"And me!" Bobby reopened his eyes and once again they were white as snow.

XXXXX

Dean walked away from Bobby. He had to clear his head. The recent information had rattled him in a way he did not take a liking to. Dean was used to weird and insane statements, but what had come out of Bobby's mouth was more than his cracked mind could handle. Running a hand through his hair, Dean slept walked to his brother's room. Slipping the door open his eyes adjusted to a semi-bright light filtering into the small room. Dean stared at the bed a moment, not sure if he was seeing correctly. Sam was no longer lying on the bed but was standing with his back to Dean in front of the only window. Dean shook his head not sure what was going on anymore.

Stepping forward, Dean placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and fire raged through his body. The feeling was instantly recognizable. When Tessa had laid her hand on him and Dean thought at that very moment he was going to leave Sam. Now here was the very same pain shooting through his veins, arteries and capillaries. His brain pulsed and his ears rang. His heart was on the verge of exploding. Then another pulse brought him to his knees. Dean cried out trying to let go of his brother but the connection had locked him in place.

As the pain increased he began to see flashes. His eyes jerked open as coloured lights danced before his eyes. A kaleidoscope of energy serged through his corneas making his lids flutter wildly. Finally they slowed and collided with one another. One after another scenes began to form.

First Dean saw the scene of Sam in the nursery. Everything was jumbled at first, running out of sequence, but as it all came together Dean almost screamed as he saw his mother die before his eyes. He could see the horrified look on his father's eyes as he raced them out of the house then watched Creigh call Sam his son. This brought the scream to Dean's lips along with vomit.

Next he saw a scene that nearly mirrored Sam's exorcism. A young woman was strapped to a chair just as his brother had been. She was screaming and wailing in daemon tongue. Two men surrounded her. As the image became clearer he saw that it was Bobby and...His father?

The daemon was yelling about Sammy, saying that he was the one. Bobby was reading Latin as he had done so many years later when Sam was possessed. Even after the daemon had been released from her young body she still continued to tell John that Sam was wanted in the fight. Dean could see the fear in his father's eyes, something he never ever saw. It was just as Bobby had told him.

The visions ended and Dean fell backwards. His breath was at a very staggering pace. His skin was pale and cold. As he sat there on the floor barely alive Sam turned to him. Dean's breath caught in his throat as his brother's eyes were darker than they had ever been. Sam's face was demonic yet a smile had slipped onto his lips. He knelt down to his brother gripping his shirt tightly.

"John and Bobby knew what they had on their hands 7 years ago, yet they chose to let me live. They left it up to you to destroy me. Too bad you were too soft hearted to let me go Dean. You should have let the devil have me, it is what he wanted after all!"

Sam picked his brother up from the floor with a solitary hand causing their faces to be mere inches from one another. Dean closed his eyes trying to think about what was going on, trying to think of a way out of this.

"Well I guess the prodigal son has fulfilled the prophecy. At least I wasn't a disappointment for once." Sam kissed Dean on the cheek then tossed him across the room. Dean slammed hard into a large dresser his head hitting the corner. He fell to the floor his eyes open slightly. He watched Sam exit the room then fell into unconsciousness.


	6. Shared Visions

A/N: Since this Chapter is so short, I will be giving you two for the price of one. Once again, enjoy...

Disclaimer: Those who deserve thanks, you know who you are!!

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Victor Henricksen exited his office carrying a stack of files. His chin rested on the uppermost folder his left hand reaching for the oak door. As the door slammed behind him the files slipped from his grip. As he tried to scoop them up he was slammed against the door. Pain shot through him like he had never felt before. He threw a hand to his head as the room was enveloped in a bright red light. The light pulsed as if from an emergency vehicle. Victor's throat closed making it impossible to breath.

Denny stood in the hallway a moment when his knees collapsed out from under him causing him to fall to the marble floor. His entire body ached from his hair to his toenails. He tried to move when he was enveloped by a strange maroon light. It hurt his eyes yet he kept them open. The light intensified then an invisible hand wrapped around the top of his head making his eyes flutter madly.

A figure stepped from the light as it dimmed slightly. It was only an outline at first but as it came closer, Victor could tell that the figure was not friendly. A second later the light went out completely and the silhouette took on a shape that he recognized. It was Sam. His eyes were as dark as a raven's back and colder than an igloo. Even though a smile had formed on Sam's face, it did nothing to calm Henricksen's nerves. Sam cocked his head back and forth then lifted his hand to the man's face. With one finger he trailed down Victor's face, neck and then stopped at his chest. Sam stood there a moment then splayed his hand laying it hard on Victor's chest. He whispered something too soft to hear. A jolt shot through Victor's heart. Victor's heart beat against his cheat like a jackhammer. Even when Creigh had shot him like a bullet at least thirty feet into a brick wall, it in no way compared to this. Victor felt himself slipping away when everything suddenly let go. He slipped to the floor his chest still stinging.

Denny's eyes continued to shutter as the light around him muted. The hand stayed in place letting him see something very odd. He was standing in a small clearing and in front of him was Sammy kneeling on the ground bloody and beaten. It looked as if someone or something had taken a 4x4 to him again and again. As the scene zoomed in Denny could see that Sammy was not himself. His eyes were evil and the aura surrounding him was dark and cloudy. Denny could hear yelling and screaming. It sounded like a Dean's voice hollering for Bobby to rethink something. Bobby yelled back that it must be done, and now. Then he saw Bobby wielding a knife ready to strike. Denny was about to scream as the image broke before he could see what was about happen. When the grip broke Denny shoved back against the wall. For a split second he felt an odd connection, as if he had not been completely alone in that hold. Jumping to his feet he yanked his cell from his belt. He had someone to call. Things were starting to come unbuckled and he needed to get to Sam and Dean before it was too late.


	7. Everything Will Be As It Should

A/N: The second chapter in my two parter freebie...then I will take off the weekend and post the eighth chapter either Monday or Tuesday...will be working on a new SPN series...based on each Season 3 episode...hope to have each one posted before every episode airs. I have Catbiest to urge me along, so I should do okay!!

Disclaimer: All the same...

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Sam slipped from the room, unnoticed by Bobby. The back door barely made a sound as he stepped through it. Not that is concerned him whether the hunter could hear his egress or not, at this point in time he did not care what happened. Sam only knew that someone was coming and that business had to be attended to. 

Bobby had been sitting on the couch examining the knife when the crash startled him. He had seen it many times before holding onto it for one month then giving it to Dean. It had weighed heavily on is shoulders having to give the burden to the young man that trusted him so much. When Dean arrived back from a case in Athens, Ohio, Bobby simply told him that he bought the knife and that Dean should carry it for protection. Dean never gave it a second thought. He carried it ever since. That was until the day when his knife had been used in the homicides. It had disappeared after the guard was murdered. Now here it was and Bobby had told Dean a wild tale about it being the key to saving his brother.

Bobby leapt from the couch still holding the knife. He rushed to the bedroom and found the door partially open. As he slowly crept in Bobby spotted Dean lying face first on the shag carpet. Blood was seeping from a nasty gash on his head. His eyes were half open. Bobby fell to Dean's side and flipped him over. A low groan escaped from Dean's throat. He struggled to open his eyes barely seeing Bobby in front of him.

"Easy now Dean." Bobby soothed. He set the knife on the floor and put a hand under Dean's neck. Dean swallowed hard and blinked twice then adjusted his head to look up at Bobby. His vision was blurred and all he could see was a dim outline of the man in front of him. His head hurt severely and he kept wincing as a pulsing string of electricity shot across his forehead and through his eyes. It was almost a case of Deja Vu.

After a few minutes Dean's vision eased and he was able to make out more of the other man. Bobby's face was a mix of worry and elation. He was happy that Dean was safe yet at the same time knew that Sam was gone and trouble was on the horizon.

"Bobby," Dean tried to sit but his stomach lurched and he fell back to the floor. Bobby held Dean's head and hand tight knowing that the feeling would pass soon but right now he just needed to rest.

"Bobby, Sam is too far gone. I'm scared that maybe we may not be able to get him back this time." Dean winced again but this time from realization that his brother may no longer be his, that Sam may now belong to the dark side forever.

Bobby picked up the knife and held it tight. Dean stared at it then back at Bobby. He did not like where all of this was going, never could, and now he was certain that he was going to lose his brother for good this time. Bobby let Dean's head slip free and he was able to hold it up without a problem. The pain was still there but was beginning to slowly dissipate.

"Don't worry Dean," Bobby stood and headed for the door. He turned back and actually smiled at Dean. The look on the man's face gave Dean the willy's.

"When all is said an done, everything will be as it should." Then before Dean could respond Bobby was gone.


	8. Freedom Comes Home

A/N: Well, sorry for the long stretch...but here is Chapter eight as promised...now here is where it all goes down and things come to a head. Will Sam be saved or will he be doomed for eternity??

Stand by for strong violence, moments of intense drama and just shear panic...please enjoy!! The final chapter will be forthcoming!!

Disclaimer: Yes there is one, but damned if I can find it!

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Victor pulled the car into the drive yet did not shut it down. He caught sight of Sammy on the porch, his arms crossed. He looked odd to him, but he could not figure out why. Sitting next to Victor, Denny knew exactly what was wrong. He had been face to face with Creigh and saw what kind of evil truly existed. He was about to voice this when Victor shut the car off and opened his door. Denny reached for him but the door slammed in his face. He knew what was about to happen next yet knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

"So I see you decided to grace us with your presence, sir." Sam spoke with a cocky tone. He sounded more like Dean than himself. Victor caught this and stopped at the bumper of the vehicle. Something was amiss here. He shook his head trying to think, when he remembered what he saw at his office. The vision had been so real. Even now he could feel his heart skip a beat.

"You're not Sam. Where is he?" Victor touched the heel of his gun gently not sure what to expect. He only knew that after being around these brothers that this young man was not himself. The eeriness that exuded off him was thick enough to cut.

Sam grinned then stepped down from the porch. Victor did his best to stand his ground but his knees were shaking and he was sure he was going to fall. Sam could almost smell the fear dripping off Victor's body. He loved it.

"I am Sam," He walked up the driveway until he was within feet of the agent.

"Just a better version!" Victor backed up and knocked into the car falling back onto the hood. Sam pulled Victor up from the car with one hand while the other slipped to his heart. Victor gasped as the pain he felt before became instantly real. His blood pressure rose and his face was tomato red. His pulse pounded in his ears as his heart banged against his chest.

"Dean trusted you Sammy." Victor spoke through ragged breaths moments before slipping away. Sammy continued to smile.

"That was his first mistake."

Denny jumped from the car too late to save his friend. Sammy caught him out of the corner of his eye and tossed Victor to the ground. Denny made a move to rush at Sammy when he waved a finger at him and without touching him slammed him into the car's windshield.

The front door banged shut as Dean stepped out on the porch. He watched as his uncle flew onto the car. An image of himself in that very same position flashed into his mind. Dean yelled Denny's name causing Sam to spin around.

"Oh Dean, you're awake." Sam's voice was filled with a darkness that Dean only heard once before. Sam had crossed over and now the inevitable had happened. His brother was no longer human. Dean swallowed hard as he stepped forward. He glanced at his uncle who was not moving. Looking back at Sam, Dean chanced running for Denny. Within feet of the vehicle Sam stopped him.

"Ah Dean, curiosity may have killed the cat," Sam grabbed Dean around the throat his grip firm. Dean struggled fighting his brother's hold. The corners of Sam's eyebrows raised and his eyes darkened. Dean could almost feel the heat emanating from Sam's skin.

"But satisfaction will not bring it back, this time!" Sam's hand slipped from Dean's neck leaving Dean dangling in mid-air. Dean's throat closed completely and his chest ceased to function. He dug at his neck unable to pull away the invisible force.

"You know Dean," Sam turned his back to his brother, his hands clasped behind his back. Denny moaned on the hood of the car yet Sam ignored him. He had more important matters at hand.

"You had so many opportunities to take me out, but no. You had to be a gutless coward like John. Like father like son. He couldn't kill me and neither could you. Now it's just too damned late!"

Sam turned back to Dean no longer smiling. There was no longer a trace of Sam as Dean knew him left. He was gone and had been completely replaced by whatever daemon had scrambled his brain waves. Sam raised his hand and Dean lifted five feet in the air slowly beginning to lose consciousness once again.

"Daddy had some beautiful plans for me and I _will_ follow through with them. Too bad _you_ won't be there to see it." The grip on Dean's neck increased ten fold and in seconds his life would have been gone had Bobby not emerged from the house.

"Samuel let him go!" Bobby stood in the middle of the driveway the knife in the band of his jeans. Sam dropped Dean to the ground and spun in his direction.

"So old man, you think you can really stop me?" Sam laughed. Bobby stepped forward and never touching him knocked Sam on his ass. Sam windmilled into the front right tire of the car hitting his head hard on the hubcap. Shaking it off he stood, scowling.

"Okay, so we are deciding to not play fair then? Gotcha." Sam shot his hands out and shoved Bobby back onto the porch knocking him into the door. It splintered inwards and Bobby disappeared into the house. Sam rubbed his hands together as if he had done something special. The moment lasted only that long. Bobby stepped out of the house wiping himself off with his hat. He placed it back on his head then a blue light formed around him. Sam watched as Bobby's eyes turned milky white. A second later the porch swing began to rattle then broke from it's chain. Sam stared at this oddity. Then the swing floated over the wooden floor for a moment then flew in Sam's direction, exploding in his face. Splinters landed everywhere whilst one lodged in his arm.

"Ah, you bastard. You'll pay for that." Sam yanked at the 3 inch long shrapnel that nearly stuck out the other side of his arm. Tossing it to the ground he focused his energy on a large tree stump next to the car. By this time Dean was standing and had managed to pull Denny from the car. His uncle had a few cuts and bumps but was still breathing. They were both leaning against a small shack watching Sam lift the trunk from the ground. As quickly as they could blink it was sailing at Bobby's head. He saw it and was able to stop it and bust it into thousands of pieces. This angered Sam so with a clap of his hands he caused the ground under Bobby to break open.

Bobby watched this and raised off the ground as the crack split just under his feet. Dean and Denny stared in awe as Bobby simply walked across the air then down stairs that were not there. He stopped a mere two feet from Sam and smiled.

"I am sorry Sammy but you can not win this fight, at least not like this." Sam glared at him and shoved him hard. Since supernatural tactics were no longer working he resorted to human ones. Bobby teetered backwards as a sucker punch connected with his nose. Sam smiled and continued swinging. Bobby countered his, fists hitting flesh, fresh blood dripping onto the gravel. Sam groaned as Bobby's knuckles slammed into his stomach. He hacked, spitting at the man's feet. Sam lunged at Bobby and they both crashed to the rocky earth.

"Give it up Robert." Sam muttered between blood stained teeth. He kicked at Bobby but caught only rocks. Bobby flipped Sam over and pinned him down. Sam struggled trying to pull his arms free.

"It's over Sammy. You just have to have faith." Bobby let Sam go and looked up at Dean who was terrified. Denny was holding his shoulders trying to keep him from running into the thick of things and getting hurt. Dean so wanted to save his brother from the trauma that was beating him inside and out but at this point it was useless.

"Faith? _Faith_?" Sammy screeched. His teeth were bared and his hands were gripping the gravel so tight blood was seeping from fresh cuts.

"Faith is for the weak and the hopeless Robert. I have found my strength so I don't need your fucking faith!" Sam kicked Bobby hard in the chest sending him backwards. Sam stood, blood trickling down his face, arms and his hands. Bobby only watched this for a split second then leapt to his feet. With one quick movement Sam was down on his knees gasping for air his hands at his sides.

"Sam I am so sorry, but this must be done." Bobby moved closer when he removed the knife from his jeans. Dean shouted for Bobby to stop, that this was not the way to do this. Denny almost fell to the ground. His vision was being recreated right before his eyes. Dean pulled away from his grasp and rushed to Bobby trying to stop him.

"Everto ut partum vos vadum existo perussi per flamma!" Bobby spoke something in Latin that Denny could not understand then plunged the knife into Sam's chest. Dean screamed Sam's name and watched as his brother's eyes flashed three times then were once again hazel. They stared up at everyone around them then rolled back exposing only white. Sam fell backwards landing slowly onto the gravel. Dean skirted to his brother's side calling his name over and over. His body was steadily losing warmth and all Dean could think was that he had lost Sam all over again.

Dean pulled Sam close tears beginning to slip past his tightly closed eyelids. The fire in his belly threatened to burn through its outer wall. So many emotions raged through him at once. He was scared, guilty, horrified but above all those he was angry. He blamed himself but mainly he blamed his father. He gave Bobby the knife and then hid it from his sons all this time. It was as if he expected things to just go away. It had been up to Bobby to deal with all this, the burden he carried all these years. He may have had his secrets as crazy as they were, but at least his did not harm others.

That was until now.

"What did you do?" Dean let his brother slip to the driveway. He was not breathing not even stirring. Whatever Bobby had done had taken his brother's life permanently this time. Bobby just stood there staring not saying a word. The knife dangled from his hands blood falling from it in lonely drops.

"Bobby, what the hell did you do?!" Dean grabbed his shoulders and shook him. Bobby still said nothing. This made Dean angry and he wanted to hit Bobby. He shoved him yelling obscenities at him. Bobby did not respond. It was almost as if he were waiting for something, expecting something.

"You fucking bastard. You killed him, you swore that thing would save him. You goddamned liar!" Dean finally did hit Bobby. A jagged punch to the face and Bobby barely flinched but he finally spoke.

"Dean, I did save Sam. I saved him in the only way possible. But you just have to see things like I do." Dean pulled back to hit him again when he felt someone grip his elbow tightly. Dean turned to see a vision that made him lose all composure. Sam stood to his right completely healed. It was as if he had never been a scuffle at all. There was not a trace of blood to be seen. Dean's arm dropped and he spun around and hugged his brother harder than he thought possible. Sam groaned trying to breathe.

"Um, Dude, a little space would be excellent." Sam was barely able to get the words out as his chest was compressed in Dean's arms. Dean chuckled and let Sammy go. He ruffled Sam's hair and in return was punched in the arm.

"Sammy, you need to stop dying on me, my heart just can not take it anymore." Dean smiled but Sam simply looked at him like he was crazy.

"Dean, what are you talking about? I only died..." Sam swallowed the last word. When he saw Bobby holding Dean's knife, his stomach fell to his knees. As a drop of his blood fell to the earth Sam fell with it. Dean grabbed him before he could hit. Sam's heart was beating fast as things began to connect.

"Dean, what happened? Did I...??"

Dean could only look at his brother in astonishment. After everything that had happened it was hard to believe that Sam did not know what had gone on. Even when he had been possessed he had at least been awake for some of it. Now he didn't seem to remember a thing.

"Sam, what, what do you remember?" He placed a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam glanced at his brother then down at the ground. So many things were jostled that he was not sure what was real and what wasn't.

"Honestly the last thing I remember is a strange vision with Creigh. Something about mom's death and that there was more to it than we originally thought. It felt so damned real."

Dean closed his eyes as he remembered seeing the exact same vision when he touched Sam.

It hurt to see his brother so confused and pained. It worried him. Opening his eyes he looked back at Sammy. His brother was scared, unsure of the last few hours. Dean could only imagine the fear he felt. He had never been in Sammy's position, never knew what it felt like to have your memory taken from you at a time that it was most critical. Dean could tell that Sam was trying hard to remember anything but it fruitless.

Dean then glanced at Bobby. He still held the knife but seemed a bit calmer. Bobby had his sights trained on Sam, watching him intently. Dean stepped next to him.

"What happened Bobby? Do you think..." Bobby stopped him. He knew what Dean was thinking and shook his head.

"No, everything that happened was real. Sam _did_ cross over and no one was controlling him as scary as that sounds." Sam's eyes flashed at the older man. He did not believe a word he was saying. It was not possible. He gripped the back of his head and felt a lump yet could not remember how or why it was there.

"So sorry about that Sam. Things got slightly out of hand and I had to get a bit rough." Bobby smiled gingerly. Sam could only stare at him from the corner of his eyes. He wished he knew what the hell had happened. Although in the end it was probably better he didn't.

Denny walked up to him touching him on the arm. Sam leapt nearly six inches off the ground. Denny apologized, a hand to his own chest. Sam saw he was all cut and bleeding. He was once again sick to his stomach.

"Did I...?" Sam pointed at his uncle. Denny nodded then hesitantly pointed toward the car. Sam saw that the windshield was in pieces all over the hood and the gravel drive. Then Sam almost collapsed yet again when he spotted Henricksen lying dead next to the front tires. Denny grabbed his arm knowing he might have to hold his nephew up.

"Sam I know this is terrifying, but you have to understand that you're now free." Bobby spoke quietly beside him. Sam turned in his direction. He still saw Victor's broken body in his head. The scene made him nauseous.

"What, what do you mean?"

Bobby placed the knife in Sam's hands. The touch of the knife was electric. Sam peered into the older man's eyes and saw them really for the first time. As Bobby smiled they flashed white then back to brown. Sam gasped not sure what to say or even think. Bobby set a finger to his mouth then walked toward the house. As Bobby stepped through the open doorway the broken door fixed itself behind him putting itself back together like a puzzle. Sam spun around to say something to Dean but he put a hand in his face.

"The way I figure it, the less you try to understand life the easier it is."


	9. Epilogue

A/N: The final chapter is in!! Now I will be busy working on my Journal series...Hope you enjoyed this one!!

Disclaimer: If you can find it, you can have it!

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It was a month later and things were back to normal. Sam had not remembered a thing and Dean had chosen not to remind him either. He felt that some things were better left unsaid. Sam did not mind that fact at all. He seemed happier, calmer even. Dean could feel it whenever he was around him as if a great weight had been lifted from him and he was thankful that so many years of oppression had finally slipped away. Even Dean was a bit easier going.

They were sitting in Denny's living room drinking beer and joking. It had been a long time since they could actually have a good time without worrying about a daemon sniffing out their trail. Bobby had told Sam about his secret. It was safe to say he was shocked. It had made Sam reevaluate a lot of days with the man. It had made him wonder what had been hunter and protector. Sam's mind hurt.

Denny handed them another beer as he sat down on the sofa. Dean thanked him crossing his leg on his knee. Sam laid back on the love seat, his long legs dangling off the edge. Dean placed the cold beverage to his forehead lavishing in the coolness. It felt good to just sit and indulge.

Denny smiled then stood. He suddenly had a look on his face as if he had lost something then left the room in a flurry. Sam swung his legs off the arm of the couch and stared down the hall then back at Dean who merely shrugged.

Over the last few weeks they had gotten to know Denver better. They learned he had been married once but it had not worked out and she left after two years of marriage. There had not been any children which Denny said he always regretted. He was glad having Sam and Dean around to have a solid connection to Mary. He had loved his sister to death and wished he had been able to save her that night. Yet as they all realized there was nothing any of them could have done. Creigh made sure of that.

Denny came back out ten minutes later with a medium sized box. It was unmarked but that did not mean anything to Denny. He set it on the table moving a couple dead Indians out of the way. He motioned for the boys to come to the table then opened the box. Sam and Dean knelt beside their uncle and looked inside the box. Inside were pictures, newspaper clipping and random papers. Denny picked up a newspaper clipping and read it aloud.

"The body of 20 year old Jessica Moore was found burned to death in her off-campus apartment building. Circumstances are as of yet unclear. Police on scene say it was the strangest case they had ever seen. One officer claimed he knew what caused the fire. Lieutenant Denver Morales was later brought in for questioning in connection for the crime but later released."

Sam's hands went to his mouth as tears filled his eyes. The connections had been too much for him and this was now the proverbial icing on the cake. Denny had been there that night, had known what had gone on yet no one believed him then. Dean watched as his brother startled to crumble again. Sam held back the tears with as much strength as he could muster. Denny set the clipping back in the box. He felt terrible for giving Sam that information, but he felt it had to be known.

"You see I moved from Kansas shortly after Mary passed and spent five years trying to find myself. Well I actually went to Stanford like you did. That is when I met Michele. But we just couldn't see things the same way so we divorced after two years. I bounced around California for a while until I came back to Palo Alto to be a lawyer. But after a lousy five years I just couldn't hack it. After going to police academy I saw that was what I wanted and was damned good at it. I stopped drinking and didn't again until after Jessica died."

"I had been on the job ten years and had been made Lieutenant five years prior. I had seen some strange cases, but when I saw the flames and heard that a young woman had been burned in a sadistic way, I knew it was connected to Mary. I never assumed you were connected to it because they never had any boyfriend's listed. The paperwork was just like with Mary's. All the important items were marked out. The images were just too much for me so I quit and moved away. I admit that I gave up. I'm sorry."

Dean stared at his brother not sure how he was going to react. When Sam put his arms around Denny hugging him close to him Dean almost cried. He never loved his brother more than at that very moment.

"Denny, things were hectic in your life, as well as ours. I don't hold you responsible. Creigh had his hand in everything, ruined any chance I had at being happy. But I thank the three most important people in my life for changing that." He smiled at Denny then at Dean who instantly returned it.

"I know we never had the chance to really truly get to know each other, but I hope that we can remain close." Denny looked at them both. They nodded without hesitation. Denny then removed a photo from the box. Dean spotted it first. It was a family portrait he had only slight recollection of.

Their father was dressed as a scarecrow. He held Sammy who was in a lion costume while his other arm was around Dean who was dressed in a tin man suit. To the left of John was Mary dressed as Dorothy. Her head was leaning on John's shoulder and she was smiling. This time Sam did cry as he saw how happy his mother looked, how happy they all looked in the photo.

"Your mother sent that to me only a week before she died. It was the last correspondence I ever received from her. I always thought it appropriate that this be the final picture." He handed it to Sam who held it to his chest and wiped a tear from his eye. It was the best ending he could have ever asked for. A sweet endearing image that was caught forever on film. He thanked Denny hugging him once more and then out of the blue felt the strong arms of his brother slip around his shoulders. A stray tear had taken up residence on his left cheek.

"Sam," He pulled back eyeing the photo. "No matter the hell we go through this right here will prove that there is always something real, something tangible out there." Then he tapped Sam's chest lightly.

"And in here."

Sam nodded. He picked up his beer to take a drink then stopped. He motioned for Dean and Denny to pick up theirs. They raised their bottles.

"For family, truth and freedom. May they all be the gateway to happiness. A Salut." They all clinked the bottom of their bottles together. Dean eyed Sam a moment then smiled.

"You know what Sam, I liked you better before." Dean set his bottle down on the table. Sam glared at his brother, so sure he was out of his ever loving mind.

"At least then you were a little more angsty and I could deal with your music choices. But Justin Timberlake? How hard _did_ Bobby hit you anyway?"

"I think it's time to cut him off Den, truly." Sam chuckled then took a final swig of his beer.


End file.
